


Time Has Stopped Before Us

by Northern_Star



Category: Hockey RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-27
Updated: 2010-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Star/pseuds/Northern_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a href="http://not-unwise.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://not-unwise.livejournal.com/"></a><b>not_unwise</b> because she asked nicely. ;)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Time Has Stopped Before Us

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://not-unwise.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://not-unwise.livejournal.com/)**not_unwise** because she asked nicely. ;)

It's been nearly half an hour now since the game has ended. Half an hour since their dreams of making it to the Stanley Cup finals have been crushed. The dressing room is eerily silent. There are sad faces everywhere, guys with reddened eyes who don't even bother to hide it, and as much as he tries not to, Jaro can't help the feeling of guilt that nearly overwhelms him.

If only he hadn't ventured so far out of his goal, then perhaps they'd still be on the ice right now, playing in overtime. If only...

"Hey," Carey says as he comes to sit beside him, already dressed in street clothes while Jaro has barely taken off more than his jersey, pads and skates.

"Hey," says Jaro, his voice barely a whisper.

Before he knows it, Carey's arm is on his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. "You okay?"

Jaro shrugs, a heartbroken expression on his face.

"Aw, come on, don't blame yourself," Carey says, smiling encouragingly. He gives Jaro's shoulders another squeeze, then gets up. "Hurry up and shower. I'll wait for you."

Jaro looks up as Carey walks over to a couple of their teammates who seem to be on their way out of the Wachovia Center already. Reluctantly, Jaro stands up and sheds the rest of his protective gear, then the clothes on his back and, head bowed down, avoiding everyone's gaze, he walks to the showers. When he comes out, some five minutes later, still shivering from the freezing cold water he's forced upon himself, most of the other guys have already left. He dresses slowly, as though just pulling his pants up requires more energy than he can muster. Then, he shoves his equipment into his bag and zips it closed, glancing around to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything, though he knows quite well someone will grab it for him if he has.

He turns and looks over to where Carey stands, leaning against the doorpost. "You didn't have to wait for me, you know," Jaro tells him, walking in his direction. "I can find my own way back."

"I know that," Carey replies with a smile that seems a little bit forced. "I just thought we could go someplace and have a drink."

Shaking his head, Jaro says, "I'm not in the mood for that. If you want to get wasted and—"

"All right, we won't do that, then," Carey agrees with a bit of a shrug. "Let's just go back to the hotel. I'll grab a few things from my room and we can sit around in yours and talk for a while."

"I don't really feel like talking," Jaro tells him in a sigh.

Carey shrugs. "That's fine. I'll just do all the talking, and you can pretend to listen." Then he laughs a little and adds, "As usual."

"I don't just _pretend_ to listen..."

"Maybe not," Carey concedes, amused, "but you do tend to fall asleep while I'm still talking about stuff."

"That's because you never shut up, Carey," Jaro replies in a chuckle.

Carey wraps an arm around Jaro's shoulders. "There you go," he says, leading him out of the dressing room. "See, it's working already."

"What's working?"

"My plan," Carey replies with a crooked smile. When Jaro looks at him, quirking an eyebrow, Carey explains, "Cheering you up, what else? See, it's working. I made you laugh already."

"What are you, my personal cheerleader?"

"Yep. I'll even break the pompoms out."

Jaro shakes his head. "Sometimes I think you're insane."

In a teasing tone, Carey replies, "Yeah, but you like me better that way."

"Maybe..."

They're both laughing a little by the time they step outside the Center and onto the bus where most of their teammates are already sitting quietly, dejected expressions on every face. Any bit of amusement that might have been left in the two of them dies just about instantly.

The ride back to the hotel doesn't last very long, though to Jaro it seems to last forever. He spends the entire way staring out the window at the buildings and the city without really seeing any of them, while every once in a while Carey whispers things in a soothing tone that Jaro neither really hears nor pays too much attention to. And then time starts doing odd things, because they're standing in front of the door to his room before Jaro really realizes they've made it there at all.

"Weren't you going to get things from your room?" Jaro asks as he digs into in his pocket and pulls out the magnetic card with which he unlocks the door.

A teasing smile spreads across Carey's lips. "Promise you're not going to lock me out?"

"No, of course not," Jaro tells him, rolling his eyes. "That's something _you_ would do. Not me."

"Never hurts to be sure," says Carey, playfully punching Jaro on the shoulder, then he leaves, jogging down the corridor to his room.

Meanwhile, Jaro walks into his own empty and silent room, not bothering to turn on any lights. He turns the deadbolt to keep the door unlocked for Carey to return, then walks toward the window, pulling the drapes open slightly. Just as he's done on the ride there, he looks out the window at the city without really seeing it at all. He flops onto the bed a moment later, grabbing a pillow and setting it over his face. He's faintly aware that the door has opened and closed again some minutes later, but he doesn't lift the pillow off his face to have a look.

"Hey," says Carey softly, as he sits on the edge of the bed. "You all right?"

There's a moment of silence, at the end of which Jaro finally asks, "Am I supposed to be?" His voice is muffled by the pillow.

Carey chuckles and grabs the pillow, throwing it over his shoulder. "Who are you hiding from, exactly?" he asks. "Surely not me?"

Jaro doesn't reply, only looks at Carey, a pained expression on his face.

"Aw, come on, it's not _that_ bad," says Carey in as encouraging a tone as he can. "Besides...I'm back now, so you should feel all cheered up again."

"I wish it was as simple as that," Jaro replies quietly, and he turns his head to look toward the window at the city he can't see from there.

Carey stretches out on the bed beside him. They're not touching—not quite—but Jaro is very aware that Carey is lying next to him, his hand barely more than an inch away. He's just as aware that it'll be several months before they find themselves like this again, and it makes him ache for some sort of contact between them, though there's a part of him that can't stop thinking that if he tries anything, he's likely to be pushed away, and he just couldn't bear the rejection—especially tonight.

They lie there in silence for a while, both of them staring blankly at the ceiling. Eventually, Jaro says out loud what he's been thinking since the third period ended... "They're going to refer to it as the mistake that cost us the series."

"Oh, come on, stop blaming yourself."

"How can I?" Jaro asks, swallowing hard, risking a quick look at his bedmate. "I screwed up."

Carey's hand curls into a loose fist and he lightly hits the mattress, knuckles brushing against Jaro's hand as he does. "Perhaps on that one," he concedes, "and even then, I'm not so sure. But either way, this _isn't_ all your fault. All the other guys are bitching about their own mistakes: didn't score a goal when they could have, should have kept a better eye out for a guy on the other team, got a bad penalty... You name it, there's a million reasons that could explain why we lost, and I bet you every player on this team has something they wish they'd done better."

Jaro looks over to Carey and swats his hand gently. "Except you."

"Me? Are you kidding?" Carey replies as he swats Jaro's hand right back. "I wasn't even good enough to play! You think I don't feel bad for being benched most of these playoffs? I mean, of course I'm glad you had a good run, but if I'd been better...? If I'd been better then maybe I'd have been at least a little helpful."

"You _were_ helpful," Jaro tells him after a short moment of silence. Slowly, deliberately, he brushes the back of his fingers against Carey's hand. "To me, you were."

"That's not the same..." Carey observes in a quiet tone.

Their fingers are still touching and the air in the room suddenly feels heavy, thick with tension. Without taking his eyes off the spot on the ceiling that he's now staring at very intensely, Carey clumsily, stiffly, attempts to slide his knuckles between Jaro's fingers. When he realizes that Jaro isn't protesting against that at all, Carey lets out the breath he's been holding.

"Oh, screw it," he blurts out, letting go of Jaro's hand and turning heavily on his side, "I'm tired of skirting around this. And I'm tired of pretending to be nice and friendly just because it's what any good teammate would do, dammit... I'm _never_ that nice! To anyone! But you— you..." Sighing in frustration he adds, "So, fuck it, okay, if this isn't what you want, then I'm sorry, and you can just throw me off the bed, but I can't take this anymore." Leaning in awkwardly he plants a small kiss on Jaro's lips.

Surprised, Jaro stills, eyes wide. He's wanted this for a long time, but wasn't expecting it to happen here, now, like this. His brain has barely caught up with what's happened when he realizes that Carey is moving away, mumbling some sort of apology.

"No, wait," says Jaro, hurriedly grabbing the front of Carey's shirt and pulling him down as he lifts himself off the bed just enough to close the distance between them. "Wait," he says against Carey's lips, "Don't go," and he presses his mouth to his teammate's in a proper kiss this time. They settle back onto the mattress, Jaro still clenching Carey's shirt in a tight fist.

"Not going to kick me off the bed, are you?" Carey asks, a quick glimpse of uncertainty flashing through his eyes.

Jaro shakes his head. "That wouldn't be my first choice," he says, pulling Carey down toward him, kissing him again, more deeply this time. He lets go of his shirt only to grab it just a little lower, pulling it out from where it's buried in his pants.

Carey's breath hitches as Jaro's fingers brush quickly against his stomach. Surprisingly soft hands slide under his dress shirt, caressing his skin, making him shiver. "Wouldn't be mine, either." Smiling, he adds, "Mine goes a more like this..."

He swings one leg over and across Jaro's, then moves to straddle him at the hips, then leans in again almost immediately, kissing Jaro again, hands grasping at his shirt, twisting and pulling and nearly ripping out a few buttons. Soon, they're both tugging at the other's clothes, urgently unbuttoning buttons, undoing belts and unzipping dress pants.

Groaning, Carey forces himself off Jaro and back on his feet. "Clothes. Off. Now," he orders, before he practically rips his own shirt off and shimmies out of his pants.

There isn't much light in the room, only the faint glow of the city coming in through the slightly open drapes, but there's more then enough for Carey to be able to see as Jaro rolls off the bed and sheds his clothes, dropping them in a haphazard pile on the floor. Carey's own clothes are scattered around the room by the time he's done, and there's only a small moment of hesitation before he pounces, both men ending up in a tangle of limbs on the bed.

"Last chance to change your mind and kick me—" Carey starts, not entirely serious. "Oww!" he yelps when Jaro does kick him, though definitely not hard enough to hurt, or move him off the bed.

"You talk too much," Jaro complains, rolling them over so he's on top. He leans down quickly, covering Carey's mouth with his own, barely allowing him a "Sorry" before he slides his tongue in his mouth.

Jaro rolls his hips, grinding their erections together, eliciting a low moan from Carey whose hands are now all over him, smoothing over warm skin, running over lean muscle, stroking and caressing everywhere. Carey's hand reaches between them and starts stroking them both together in a loose fist.

Gasping, Jaro pulls away, leaning his forehead against his teammate's, panting, heart pounding in his chest. Eyes half-lidded, he whispers something in a tongue that Carey doesn't speak, though somehow it seems he's caught on just the same and his hand tightens around Jaro alone, his strokes gaining in speed and momentum, more so even when they start kissing again.

It doesn't take very long before Jaro breaks the kiss and, head thrown back, mumbles something that Carey doesn't quite understand until warm seed spills across his chest and in his hand...

###

Later, as they're lying side by side, sweaty, sticky, still catching their breaths, Carey runs a hand lightly along Jaro's arm and says, "Well, this wasn't _exactly_ part of the plan, but I hope you're a little cheered up anyway?"

When there isn't any response, Carey turns on his side, eyebrows knitted in a worried little frown. He's about to ask if Jaro is okay, when he realizes that he hasn't answered his question because he's apparently trying very hard not to laugh. He gives him a confused look, which only causes Jaro to start laughing for good.

"I'm glad to see you're laughing, but why do I get the feeling you're laughing _at_ me?"

"I'm sorry," Jaro manages to articulate, laughing even harder than before. "But it's your fault! I just suddenly had an image of you in a—" he wipes at his eyes, still laughing "—in a cheerleading outfit."

"Oh, right, but you accuse _me_ of being insane?" Carey complains, trying to sound annoyed, though the look in his eyes betrays him completely.

"I like you better that way," Jaro replies, grinning.

"Yeah?" There's a lopsided smile on Carey's lips. "So you admit you like me, then?"

There's a serious look in Jaro's eyes as he replies, "Maybe a little too much..."

"You know? I think I can live with that," Carey says, stifling a yawn as he snuggles in closely.

A few moments pass, then, "Carey?"

"Mmm?"

"Thanks for cheering me up."

  
\--> End.


End file.
